


An Unexpected Meeting

by LondonGypsy



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Benedict is a big romantic, Changing POV's, Feelings, First Kiss, First Time, Love at First Sight, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Schmoop, Sexy Times, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, basically no plot, falling in love... with a surprise, finding The One, just a big ball of fluff, so many fuzzy feelings, sometimes The One isn't what you expected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:12:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benedict almost gave up on finding the love of his life.<br/>But then he meets someone who turns his entire world upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> No, I have no idea where this came from.  
> Yes, there will be more.  
> Still working on the rest but this can totally be read as stand-alone.  
> Yes, you're allowed to come and yell at me when you've read it for not warning you but there's a little surprise in there I don't wanna spoil so you have to read it. 
> 
> As always: Barawen for the superfast Britpick and calliope79 for general cheerleading and making me blush! Thank you, you two are incredible!

He's got everything: a sky rocketing career, fantastic friends and family, the life he's always wanted and worked very hard for. 

And yet there's still something missing. 

"She's out there, man, just waiting for you to find her," James says, squeezing his fiancee's hand. 

"You'll find the one, don't worry," Adam says, rocking his new born daughter in his arms. 

"Be patient, mate, one day she'll be there," Martin says, celebrating his and Amanda's 15th anniversary. 

And he listens. 

And waits. 

He is a patient man. 

But every now and then, usually when jet-lag keeps him awake in yet another hotel room or trailer, he wonders if he'll ever find The One. 

The one woman he wants to grow old and have kids with. 

The one who doesn't mind his flaws - and there are rather a few - and still wants to spend the rest of her life with him. 

The one who stays with him through thick and thin. 

The one woman he'd happily give his name to. 

"Mrs Cumberbatch," he mutters into the dark, trying out the sound of it. 

For a while he had thought, Olivia would be The One, would become his wife but somehow it never felt really right to ask her. 

In the end he was glad: Olivia and he were still friends when it ended. He had seen enough couples fall out with each other in a divorce even though the split was a mutual decision. 

One day, he thinks bitterly. 

But when? 

He's tired of waiting, tired of dating women only to discover that they're only after his fame, his money and in one terrible case, after his car, for Christ's sake. 

He shudders when he thinks back to that dreadful night. 

No, he doesn't need _that_ again. 

Then he'd rather stay single. 

He's long ago given up on searching for her. 

If it happens, it happens, he can't force it.

Deep down inside he's certain, with every fibre of his heart, that he'll just _know_.

But he can't help keeping his eyes and ears peeled and his heart open. 

More often than he can count he's got disappointed though. 

His friends always tell him, he's too good for this world, too kind, too naive. 

He always laughs it off but in the lonely hours at night he wonders if they may be right. 

It's love he has trouble with. 

Sex on the other hand was never a problem. 

He could have them all... if he wanted to. 

He doesn’t. Not anymore. 

He'd rather wank himself raw before using a woman to fill his basic needs again.

He's done that, ages ago, in the very beginning of his career. 

Women - and sometimes men - had thrown themselves at him at every given opportunity. 

Flattered about the attention he'd let them persuade him. God, it had boosted his ego like nothing else. 

For a while he had lost count, bragged among colleagues and friends how many he'd laid in a week, a month, a year. 

But every time he followed another nameless woman into her hotel-room, he'd lost a bit of himself without noticing. 

Finally his own mother had put a stop to his atrocious behaviour. 

She had sat him down and blatantly told him he was going to ruin his entire career. 

Smart as she was, she didn't even try to appeal to his emotions but his pride of his work, the one thing he loved and worked for the most. 

She'd also straight out told him how much his behaviour hurt her; she hadn't raised him like that. 

Furiously he had left the house and hadn't spoken to his parents for a while. 

But the image of his mom popped up in his head every time he fell into bed with yet another woman he didn't even know her last name, scolding him wordlessly. 

Soon he had started to question his own doings, the nagging voice in his head sounding very much like his father's. 

It took him a considerably long amount of time, two job losses and one big scare to eventually stop. 

It still took him a few more weeks to admit to himself that his mum only was looking out for him. 

But when he'd finally realised, he went and bought her the biggest and most expensive ceramic owl he could find. 

He never actually said what it was for but she's his mother. She just knew. 

The hug they shared that night will forever stay with him. 

A constant reminder of how she had saved him from himself. 

He never had meaningless sex again. 

Still, every now and then, he craves the touch of another human being in his bed. 

The warmth of a pliant body next to him, wrapped around him. 

The quiet nonsense one whispers into each other's skin in the dark. 

The bliss and the haze of losing himself in someone, forgetting about everything when climax washes over him. 

He sighs. 

One day... 

 *

Perhaps tonight's the night, Benedict thinks while he gets ready for a friend's birthday party. 

He's looking forward to a night out with friends - no paparazzi, no obligations, only old friends...and maybe some new ones. 

Pushing _that_ thought resolutely to the back of his mind he get's dressed. 

Nothing fancy, not tonight. Jeans, sneakers and a nice dress shirt with a warm jumper for his smoke breaks outside. 

He's got rid of many of his bad habits but that's the one he can't seem to lose. 

And as much as he loves his suits, every now and then he just enjoys being as casual as possible. 

Tonight's he's not the actor, tonight he's just Benedict the friend. 

He calls a cab. It's Friday night and he's not bonkers enough to attempt driving into London himself. And even the tube won't do it tonight - too many people with too quickly pulled mobiles. 

Half an hour later he arrives at his friend's house and promptly bumps into James at the door. 

"Hey there, mate, so great to see you," he says, embracing Benedict in a tight hug. 

"And you," he replies, the tension of a long week falling off of him in his friend's arms. 

It's been a while since they've seen each other and even longer since they had time for a proper chat. They're both far too busy for their regular meet-ups - 'men dates' as James came to call it. 

They chat for a while, catching up on each other's lives before James's fiancee whisks him away. 

Smiling contently Benedict follows them with his eyes. He hasn't seen his best friend that happy in quite some time. 

He ignores the tiny sting of envy in his heart. 

Aimlessly he strolls through the huge sitting-room, greeting friends, waving at others as he's being welcomed with warm hugs and loud cheers. 

Here, in this house tonight, he's just another friend, a long lost one going by the people quickly gathering around him, asking how he's been. 

But just that. Almost everyone in here has known him for years, had known him before he started to become too famous to go to the shop around the corner unrecognised. 

With every hug and every clap on the shoulder he feels the tension of the past weeks seep out of him, helping him relax back into the familiarity of being just himself. 

"Ben, love, come here and meet Karen," Amanda calls out as she sees him from across the room. 

He glares at her over the back of the head in front of her but obediently wanders over to greet her. 

Apparently she's made it her life goal to find him the love of his life and won't stop till he finally announces a wedding. 

He knows it's futile to try and stop her; even Martin has tried to put an end to her match making but she's just as stubborn as her man. It's like wanting to stop a train in full speed. If she's set her mind to something, she won't stop until she's accomplished it. 

Benedict loves her dearly - but quite honestly, he'd never dare to cross her intentions, she can get pretty furious when something doesn't go like she planned. 

So he plasters his most charming smile on his face and prepares mentally for small talk. 

"Karen, that's Benedict. Ben, that's Karen. Go play," Amanda coos, pushing them together and vanishes. 

After the initial awkwardness, that always comes with meeting someone new, Benedict's verdict is rather positive. 

Karen is quite lovely. Smart and intelligent, good looking, with a pretty dark humour he always loved in a woman. 

But soon he also realises that is it. 

There are no sparks, no sizzling in the air between them, just friendly chatter. 

He knows he's hopelessly romantic and always searches for the little something. 

He had that with Olivia, that tension in the air, that spark that tells you that there might be more. 

There's nothing right now, not with Karen. 

They will end up becoming friends, good ones even, he thinks as they talk about everything and nothing in particular. 

But she's definitely not The One. 

It takes him a few minutes to realise that he's alone with his thoughts. 

When he shakes his head slightly to clear it, she's watching him, an amused expression on her face. 

He blushes furiously. 

"Gosh, I am so sorry, I didn't.. I mean... blimey, where are my manners?" 

"Not with me," she states dryly but her electric blue eyes are twinkling. 

"Tell me Benedict, how's she supposed to be?" 

He gapes at her in shock. 

"Huh?" is all he can manage, making her laugh. 

"That woman you dream about." 

He stares and as his brain catches up, his gaze automatically locks on to Amanda's head somewhere to their left. 

Karen laughs again and pats his arm. 

"Don't worry, she didn't say a word. I just observed." 

She winks at him and he groans. 

"So what, you're a female version of Sherlock now?" he grumbles, still shooting daggers at Amanda's back. 

"Don't be mad at her. It's not what she’s said, it's what she’s  _not_ said. See, I'm a psychiatrist, it's my job to read between the lines. I'm an expert in hearing what people are silent about. They are the most alluring things." 

Benedict sighs defeated. 

"Does everybody know how bloody pathetic I am?" 

Karen chuckles, a sweet lovely giggle. 

"Only you and me," she says, winking at him. 

"C'mon," she pulls him into a quiet corner and motions for him to sit on a small sofa, "tell me about the future Mrs Cumberbatch." 

"Oh dear, you're analysing me now, I barely know you," he grumbles but sits down, suddenly feeling drained. 

"That's the best way to get to know each other, don't you think?" she replies calmly. 

Benedict eyes her for a good three minutes, wondering whether she's mocking him but the small smile on her lips is genuine. She just sits down next to him, folding her hands in her lap and waits. 

And suddenly Benedict *wants* to tell her, wants to spill his heart out to that stranger he's just met. 

He wants to let go of all the restrictions he's laid on himself in the past years. 

She's patiently watching him battle with himself until he falls back into the cushions, closing his eyes. 

"Honest," he murmurs after a moment, saying the first thing that comes to mind. 

"Genuine and true. I loathe fake people. A good sense of humour. Attentive and smart. Tolerant. Very much so. Needs to be able to deal with all the attention I'm getting and not freak out." 

He blushes; even to his own ears that sounds pretentious. 

"Clearly," Karen deadpans, chuckling friendly. 

There's something in her entire presence that calms Benedict and makes him relax. 

It feels relieving to just talk, with no boundaries, no holding back and not getting met with raised eyebrows or shook heads at his over romantically look at love. 

Karen's eyes are focused on him, roaming over his face before she says: 

"You're an actor, you portray people and every single emotion under the sun on a regular basis. You know how this business works. You've seen too many romances start and die again too quickly. You try to stay away from that though. You try to not lose your heart but deep down inside, it's exactly what you want: the big romance, with violins in the air, hearts in eyes and all that jazz. You want to fall head over heels for the right one, the literal love at first sight, and yet you know that rarely ever happens in real life. You know better than to seek it out and yet you can't stop yourself looking for it." 

Benedict's jaw falls open and he stares at her wide-eyed. 

"Isn't that what we all wish for? That one moment when we see someone and just *know* that's The One? Of course it is. And do you know what? There is nothing wrong with that, Benedict. Absolutely nothing. Even though the rational part of you tells you it's pretty unlikely to happen, never let it stop you from being you. It's a very rare trait, one that's almost going extinct. And if more people would be like that, the world may be a better place." 

Her voice's gotten quieter over the last few sentences and then she falls silent. 

But it's comfortable; she's permeating a calmness Benedict hadn't felt in a while. 

He feels lightheaded and perhaps for the first time in years at peace with himself. 

He leans over and kisses her cheek. 

"Thank you." 

He wants to say more but words fail him. 

They sit in silence for a while, each in their own thoughts before Benedict clears his throat. 

"So? How much do I owe you for that little session?" 

She chuckles. 

"Och, the right to brag I deduced the great Cumberbatch's heart." 

Even though he knows she's joking, he flinches at that. 

She instantly pats his arms, soothing him. 

"Don't worry, this will stay our little secret," she assures, "just get me another drink and I'll take it with me to my grave." 

"It'll be my pleasure," he says, smirking at her, feeling relieved.

He jumps to his feet and heads for the kitchen. 

It's empty but on the counter sit a whole brigade of bottles and he starts mixing two fresh drinks while humming contently to himself. 

While he's concentrating on the drinks, his neck starts prickling. 

He frowns; usually it's a clear sign that he's being watched. 

His stomach churns at that thought. 

Not here, not tonight, damnit. 

Gritting his teeth he ignores it but as he has no more reason to not turn to whoever is stalking him, he squares his shoulders and steps away from the counter. 

Turning he's instantly met with two very green eyes, belonging to a young, dark-haired, man, he's never seen before.

Benedict nods briefly. 

"Hey." 

He grabs his drinks and wants to push past the guy but he lays a shy hand on his arm. He instantly blushes and pulls it back again but Benedict knows the signs. 

Internally sighing he stops and waits. 

"Sorry but...uhm...I...well, you..." 

Benedict needs to summon all the self control he possess to not roll his eyes; he's so not in the mood for this. 

The man clears his throat, blushing some more. 

Faintly Benedict notices how the soft redness enhances the man's eye colour: like a dark, mysterious pond, glistening in the sunlight. 

He chases that thought away. 

"Your performance in Hamlet was absolutely fantastic. Just wanted to let you know that. You really touched me," the man eventually says, the words tumbling from his lips in one quick stream.

Benedict needs a second to fully grasp what he's said but eventually nods. 

"Thank you, that's very kind of you." 

"Absolutely stunning. It was the most mesmerising performance I have ever seen. Thank you for that," the other man adds, not taking his eyes of him. 

Benedict squirms a bit under the scrutiny of those clear, somewhat enthralling eyes. 

Oddly enough he feels a wave of ease wash over him; the other one doesn't expect anything from him.

Benedict only sees plain honesty in his features and his face; he doesn't want anything, no photo or autograph, nothing, just letting him know. That's a first. Usually people who compliment his work only use it as a reason to ask for proof they have met him. 

This one doesn't. 

He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. He's touched by the man's words and his stiff posture relaxes a little. 

"Thank you, it was a tough part to play but I guess in the end it was worth it," he says, smiling at the man. 

He blushes, ducking his head a little. 

"Sorry for coming on like a creeper. Just wanted to tell you but didn't want to..well..." he gestures towards the crowded sitting room area, "in there...you're here in private. I hope it was okay... I didn't expect to see you here. I'm only a plus one. Didn't actually mean to fanboy all over you. Sorry..." 

His face displays an array of emotions and Benedict finds himself watching fascinated. He cant help the smile that flickers over his face at the sweet comment. 

"Nah, it's fine. Hi, I'm Benedict. It's nice to meet you." 

He sets the drinks down and extends his hand. 

"The blessed Latin one," the other man murmurs, reaching for Benedict's hand and shakes it. 

"I'm Felix." 

"The fortunate one," Benedict replies in the same soft voice, faintly remembering his own Latin lessons. 

Their handshake tightens and for a second everything around him vanishes, the muffled conversations from the sitting room, the blaring music. 

He feels like he's caught in a bubble; it's just the two of them in an overly bright lit kitchen. 

Felix' hand in his is warm, his grip firm. Benedict feels every finger, every knuckle over intense against his own and for a moment he thinks he can feel the other man's heart against his palm, beating in sync with his own. 

He let's go and his hand falls to his side, shock rushing through him in a hot wave. 

"It's my pleasure, Benedict," Felix says, his moss green gaze sliding attentively over Benedict's face. 

"And mine," he replies automatically, losing himself for a moment in the sight of the other man before he pulls himself together again.

"Excuse me," he says hoarsely, clearing his throat, "need to get these back." 

Grabbing his drinks he practically flees the kitchen and Felix' intense gaze. 

Loud chatter and even louder music envelops him as he steps back into the sitting room, drowning out the buzzing in his head. 

On unsteady legs he makes his way back to Karen whose eyes widen when she sees him. 

"Goodness, what the hell happened to you? You're white as a sheet. 

"Nothing," he says a bit too quickly, handing her her drink. 

"Benedict, you're shaking." 

He looks down on his hands and they're indeed trembling gently. He sets down the other glass, clenching his hands into fists. 

"It's nothing," he repeats, falling into the seat next to her. 

She raises an eyebrow at him but doesn't say a word. 

Wordlessly they sip their drinks for a few long minutes. Then Karen sits up. 

"Wanna dance?" she asks cheerfully. 

Benedict looks up, torn from his thoughts. 

"Hmm?" 

"Dance. Moving to the music in a rhythmical manner," she says with a raised eyebrow. 

"Oh." 

He casts a glance towards the improvised dance-floor full of his friends, looking like they have the most fun possible, and shakes his head. 

"Suit yourself," Karen says and jumps to her feet. 

He watches her coil through the people, smiling widely at someone, bouncing on her heels with the music. 

It takes a few minutes for him to realise that he's intently scanning the entire room for a dark-haired head and he's shocked to his core as he tears his eyes away from the people. 

Shaking his head to himself he decides to sneak outside for a smoke. 

Also some fresh air might clear the whirling thoughts in his brain. 

He grabs his jumper and slowly makes his way to the backdoor. 

The big garden behind the house is dark and empty, only a few candles cast long shadows over the snowy ground. 

Taking a deep breath, Benedict inhales the crisp winter air deeply.

He fumbles for his cigarettes as he notices the absurd speed his heart is beating in his chest. 

Willing it to slow down, he lights up a cigarette and talks a long drag. 

Nicotine surges hotly through this veins and after a few seconds it reaches his brain, gently soothing his racing mind. 

He closes his eyes, leaning against the wall, trying _not_ to think about that odd meeting in the kitchen and his strong reaction to a man he doesn't even know. 

Reciting one of his favourite poems in his head, he slowly calms down.

He drifts off; over aware of the cold and the quiet of the garden but somehow suspended in a state of trance. 

It isn't until he feels warmth radiating against his cold hands, that he notices he isn't alone anymore. 

The cigarette is pulled from his hands and he hazily blinks his eyes open. 

Two bright green eyes meet his, watching him closely. 

"Smoking is bad for you," a low voice says, tiny puffs of air clouding his sight. 

Suddenly everything slows down considerably. 

Benedict has time to notice the freckles dotted over golden skin, has time to see the small scar over the base of a straight nose. 

But then everything fades as warm lips press against his, shooting a shockingly hot jolt down his spine. 

Time stops, the world ceases to exist. 

The only thing in Benedict's mind is the incredibly soft mouth on his, the gentle press of a nose against his and the rough feeling of stubble against his skin. 

It's over too soon and Benedict whines involuntarily at the loss as Felix pulls back, his hand caressing Benedict's cheek. 

He leans into the touch, his mind still blessedly blank, moaning as a thumb brushes over his lower lip. 

A low groan drifts into his consciousness and then the mouth is back, harder this time, pressing against his. 

His hands tighten against the cool fabric of a jumper at the wet touch of a tongue, flickering over his bottom lip, asking silently for permission.

With a quiet whimper his jaw goes slack and then everything is their kiss. 

Slow and deep, Felix' tongue sliding unhurriedly into his mouth, finding his own tongue, curling gently around it before withdrawing and coming back, just as gentle as before. 

Benedict's knees go weak and he helplessly scrambles for a hold on the other man. 

Felix hums into the kiss, his arms sliding around Benedict's waist, pulling him closer and steadying him at the same time. 

Benedict's senses are screaming 'overload', every sensory nerve is sparking, a fiery sensation renders him powerless at the onslaught on his entire being. 

He can smell aftershave, tastes coffee, feels stubble against his chin, hears a low moan. 

Without noticing, his hands lose their frantic hold on the other man's jumper and slide into his short hair, cradling him closer. 

He wants to lose himself in that kiss, wants to crawl into the other man, wants to devour him from the inside. 

Instinct takes over and as he growls and deepens the kiss, he feels a mirroring sound rumble through Felix' chest. 

Faintly he notices he's getting hard in his jeans and as he pushes his hips against the other man, he can feel his desire as well. 

Gentle fingers slip into Benedict's hair, pressing him closer. 

Not close enough. 

Benedict makes a choked off sound, one hand slipping down Felix' neck and back, frantically tugging on his jumper. He needs to feel skin, must feel his flesh, has to make sure this is real and not only an imagination. 

Finally he can slip two fingers under heavy fabric and his stomach flutters wildly as he touches heated skin. 

Growling constantly now he cants his hips, rubbing desperately against Felix' hip. 

Fireworks explode in his head as the other man's breath stutters and he bites down softly on Benedict's lip. 

Felix urges him back gently but Benedict is not able to break contact until he crashes against the cold wall. 

He feels the other man's body press against his form, closer and closer and never enough but it has to do. 

For now. 

Digging his fingers into burning flesh and hard scalp, diving back into the heat of Felix' mouth, feverishly chasing his tongue and moaning loudly when they find each other again. 

He could have gone on forever but the need for air is stronger and eventually he pulls back with a last nip on Felix' lip. 

Resting his forehead against Felix', he pants, filling his lungs with cold air. 

Felix' arms are still around his waist, his fingers drawing circles over his lower back and the contact, even through the fabric of the jumper is driving Benedict mad. 

Slowly his brain function comes back and he faintly registers that he just snogged the living daylight out of a man. 

He couldn't care less. 

Even though he knows he's probably going to have a small sexual crisis in a bit, right now, he's drowning in moss green eyes, relishing the feeling of strong muscles beneath his hands and the quiet sounds of pleasure falling from his lips. 

His stomach's flipping, his nose filled with a pointedly male scent and he's never been more turned on on his life. 

Groaning he slips a hand between their still chest-to-toe pressed bodies and re-adjusts himself in his trousers. The back of his hand brushes over the other man's erection in the process, making his nerves tingle. 

The dark moan piercing his ears has him look up and grin sheepishly. 

"Sorry," he murmurs, his heart fluttering at the heat of Felix' gaze. 

"'s fine," Felix mumbles but he presses harder against Benedict, moving his hips in slow circles against him. 

"Christ," Benedict curses quietly. 

Every touch, every brush of skin against skin, fuels Benedict's desire to lay Felix down, undress the man - slowly - and explore every single inch of his body. 

"I've never...I thought...well..." Felix murmurs against his skin, placing fleeting kisses over Benedict's face. 

"Me neither," he whispers, moaning softly under the other man's administrations.

"I don't know what came over me but when I saw you..." Felix doesn't finish the sentence but Benedict knows exactly what he means. 

He'd felt it the second he laid eyes on the other man, even though he didn't realise it. 

He's always been fairly open minded about his sexuality. He had casual encounters back in school with both genders, not actually caring about labels like straight or gay. 

He never cared which gender he would fall in love with. 

Mostly it was women but he'd always been open enough to consider the thought of losing his heart to a man. 

He could admire male beauty just as much as the female's and in one or two cases had even imagined a night with one of his distinctively male colleagues. 

But mostly he'd been drawn to the women out there with their fluttering eyes, their tiny hands and their curvy figures, melting so effortlessly into his large hands. 

He'd never felt that strongly for another man but Felix is different. 

He turned Benedict's world upside down within minutes and he's the last to question that. 

Not after that kiss. 

And especially not after the little session with Karen earlier. 

He chuckles at the surrealism of his situation, making Felix draw back and look at him curiously. 

"What is it?" he asks, tilting his head. 

"Nothing, I just had a deep conversation about my overly romantic view on falling in love. And now you're here..." 

Felix' eyes widen in wonderment and a soft 'oh' escapes his lips. 

Benedict can't look away, a fiery glow is burning in his stomach and his heart.

Felix has the most expressive face he has ever seen. Benedict can read every emotion, every feeling in his eyes, his cheeks, his lips. 

He slowly lifts his hand and lays it on Felix' cheek, tentatively sliding his thumb over the other man's mouth. 

"Guess, I need to readjust my view on that a little," he whispers. 

Felix' face brightens as he smiles at him, his eyes sparkling in the low lights. 

God, those eyes. Benedict could drown in them; he feels like he's falling and as scary as that thought might be, he feels nothing but safe when looking into his eyes. 

"I always thought you were straight," Felix murmurs, never taking his gaze off of Benedict, smirking mischievously as he slips a hand under his jumper and shirt. His fingers are cool against Benedict's burning skin but the touch has his entire body tingle. 

"Apparently not," he replies hoarsely, teasingly scratching his nails along the warm flesh over Felix' back. 

The man arches into him and Benedict almost loses his mind. 

He plunges down, his mouth instantly finding the other man's lips and he kisses him feverishly, needy moans getting swallowed by equally eager lips. 

Panting they part again after a while, staring longingly at each other before Felix breaks the silence. 

"Can I see you again? I've gotta go, my friend wants to leave and I'm her designated driver tonight." 

"Come back," Benedict pleas, not the least bit embarrassed at the open need in his tone. He *must* see him again, the thought of letting him go makes something in his stomach flip. 

"I can't. It's quite far and traffic is horrible. It would take hours," Felix says, sadness seeping through his words. 

"I'll wait," Benedict whispers but the rational part of his brain scolds him quickly. 

He knows what London traffic can be and the prospect of waiting, perhaps in vain, is killing him. 

They stare at each other for a long moment, Benedict wrecking his brain as Felix' face lightens up. 

"I have an appointment in Central London tomorrow morning," he says and then the most adorable blush creeps over his cheeks. 

Benedict wants to pepper kisses all over his face but resists - barely. 

"If you... I mean, if you want to... we could meet..." 

"My place," Benedict blurts out, blushing himself now. 

Felix eyes widen. 

"But don't you live a bit outside?" 

Benedict nods.

"Yes, but it's only a few stops with the tube. If you don't mind coming out to my place..." 

He swallows, feeling like a teenager, inviting his crush into his dorm. 

"I wouldn't mind at all," Felix says, leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss on Benedict's mouth. 

"I'd love to. If you're comfortable having me..." 

Benedict groans and pulls Felix against his chest, finally giving in to the urge to kiss every single inch of skin he can find.

"Of course I am, how could I not." 

Felix giggles against Benedict's neck, making him shiver at the sweetness in it. 

"I'm still a fanboy, you know, I might go and tell everybody where you live." 

Benedict pulls back, searching the other man's eyes. 

"Would you?" he asks quietly. 

Felix gaze is open and honest. 

"Never," he whispers. 

The atmosphere suddenly shifts from suppressed passion into something that feels like a promise, that goes much deeper than what they're actually talking about. 

"Never?" Benedict croaks, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. 

"Never," Felix states solemnly, pulling Benedict's face down and kissing him slowly. 

They both get lost in it, drown in each other's lips and arms, bodies pressed as close as possible, hands tightly clinging to one another. 

A loud voice drifts through the cold air and Felix pulls back with a sigh.

"That's my cue. I've got to go." 

"You have a mobile?" Benedict asks, cold panic surging through his veins that the man will vanish before he can get his number. 

"Yes." 

Without another word Benedict digs his own out of his pocket and they switch them, hastily typing their number into their respective phones. 

"Tomorrow? What time can you be there?" Benedict asks, taking his phone back, clutching it to his chest like it is something precious. 

"Is noon okay with you? Might be a bit later, I don't know yet how long the meeting's going." 

Any damn time would be fine with Benedict so he just nods. 

"See you there then," Felix mutters, pressing one last kiss to the corner of Benedict's mouth. 

He turns and without looking back vanishes inside, leaving a slightly shaking Benedict behind. 

He glances down at the mobile, pressing a random button to activate it. Felix' name and number flash up and with trembling fingers he saves them under his Favourites.

"Felix," he mouths into the dark, smiling at the sound of it rolling over his tongue. 

He can still smell him, in his hands, his jumper and he knows instantly he'll be going to bed with it, sleeping in it just to have Felix' scent surround him. 

Chuckling at his own lovesick behaviour, he buries his nose in his jumper, inhaling deeply. 

Felix' scent mixes with his own and suddenly flashes of their bodies, entangled and sweaty, shoot through his brain. 

Groaning lowly he presses a hand on his still hard cock, squeezing hard. 

He has no idea how to face the crowd inside with a boner like this. 

Every time he thinks he has control of his body again, Felix' smile, his gorgeous eyes or his perfectly shaped mouth flicker before his eyes and he gets a bit harder. 

He feels like a teenager again. 

His heart is fluttering in his chest like a caught bird and his hands start shaking when he thinks about tomorrow. 

He's in no shape to face his friends like this and so he decides to sneak home. 

Thankfully he knows the place like that back of his hand and ten minutes later he's sitting in the back of a cab. 

Just as he slips inside his dark flat his phone buzzes with a text. 

Startled he drops his keys and pulls it out. 

'I miss you already. Can't wait to see you again. F.' 

Benedict grins widely, his heart thundering in his chest as he reads those few words. 

He glances at his watch before he quickly types an answer.

'11 hours and 15 minutes. B.' 

He blushes; how pathetic is it that he's counting till he sees him again. 

The phone bleeps again. 

'...and 55,54,53 seconds...' 

He laughs out loud, a hot rush of joy surging through him. 

Without switching on the lights, he stumbles to his bedroom, falling on the bed, the mobile still in his hand. Quickly he's drifting off to sleep, Felix' smiling face following him into his dreams. 

 


	2. Lunchtime

The sound of his mobile going off wakes Benedict from a very vivid dream.

Disoriented he scrambles around the sheets.

When he finds it under his pillow, the message it displays, has him wide awake.

' _Good morning, Beautiful. I know it's early but I need an address, otherwise I'll be running around like a lost puppy. F._ '

A warmth fills Benedict's stomach and he smiles stupidly at the phone for at least one minute before he's able to reply.

He quickly types his address, still a bit in awe at Felix' ability to make him feel like a young schoolboy again.

He waits with bated breath, and his smile widens when his phone beeps again.

' _Counting the minutes. See you later. F_.'

Benedict falls back into the pillows, faintly noticing how quick his heart is beating.

He doesn't care.

Just a few more hours and he'll see him again.

He kicks off the duvet and swings his legs out of bed.

While he walks into the bathroom for a shower, his thoughts are racing.

What will they do? Shall he cook for him? Take him out for lunch?

No, he quickly dismisses that thought. Not only wouldn't they be able to stay unrecognised but also he doesn't want to share Felix with anybody else.

He wants him all to himself and staying in seems to be the best thing to do so.

Cooking it is then.

Benedict hurries with his shower, and with only a towel around his hips, he strolls into the kitchen to inspect what he still has in the fridge.

After assessing the situation, he decides on his favourite chicken dish.

It's easy to make and he can keep it warm in the oven in case Felix isn't on time.

Benedict fixes himself a coffee; he's not a morning person and as lovely as Felix' early message was, he needs a while to fully wake up.

Outside it's snowing and he feels the cold creeping in through the window. But despite the shivers covering his body in goosebumps he keeps looking outside, losing himself for a moment in the hypnotic fall of the snow, tumbling through the air, covering everything in white.

It's rare, even in winter, that the snow sticks around long enough but for now it does.

Benedict has always loved winter when it was like this: crisp cold, the world covered in snow, every sound muffled, everyone slowed down in their hastiness.

It's always been a bit of a magical time for him.

Perhaps they could go for a walk later, he thinks, his heart jumping at the thought.

Grinning Benedict pulls himself together and strolls into the bedroom to get dressed.

That chicken won't cook itself.

*

It's ten minutes past noon when the doorbell rings.

Benedict jumps to his feet, butterflies in his stomach and his hands suddenly sweaty.

He takes a deep breath as he pushes the buzzer that opens the door to the street.

Listening intently he waits and then there are quick footsteps on the staircase, ascending to his flat.

Benedict's heart stops for a second as Felix comes into sight, his dark hair powdered with snow, his face red from the cold.

Felix sees him in the doorframe and slows down his steps, searching his gaze.

"Hi," he huffs, taking the last few steps and coming to stand in front of Benedict.

His throat is dry, his heart is thundering in his chest as he drinks in the sight of the other man.

"Hi," Benedict croaks, in no control of his voice at the breathtaking smile on Felix' face.

They stare at each other for a while before Felix takes one more step and places a shy kiss on Benedict's lips.

"I missed you," he whispers as he pulls back, his deep green eyes shining.

Benedict swallows around the lump in his throat.

"I dreamed of you," he blurts out, instantly blushing and biting his lip.

God, he'd really turned into a teenager again but Felix makes something inside him helpless to the storm of emotions.

Felix smile widens and Benedict's knees go a bit weak at the sight of the dimples around his eyes.

"Uh, wanna come in?" he eventually says, remembering his manners.

He steps aside.

Felix' hand brushes over Benedict's arm as he walks inside.

Benedict closes the door behind them, leaning against it for a moment to gather himself.

"Wow, your flat is gorgeous," Felix says, wandering into the sitting room, his eyes roaming the space.

"Thank you. Took me a bit to get it exactly like I wanted it to be," Benedict says, following him slowly.

He watches as Felix calmly explores his sitting room, admiring his rather huge book collection and the view out of the window into the snowy garden.

He could have watched him all day long, just seeing him move around his place, looking like he belongs here.

"It's a really lovely place," Felix says, stopping in front of Benedict.

"Even lovelier with you here," Benedict whispers, his gaze glued to Felix'.

He blushes, fidgeting with his hands before he reaches out and strokes Benedict's cheek.

"I have no idea what happened last night, I'm not usually like this... I mean, running around kissing famous people, that's nothing I normally do. But," he swallows, searching for words, "the way you looked at me..."

Benedict covers Felix' hand on his cheek with his own and pulls it against his lips, kissing his palm.

"I don't know what happened either. But I don't really care. You are here, that's all that counts. I've never expected for this to happen but I am very glad I have met you."

"And me, believe me," Felix mumbles back, leaning up and kissing him gently.

Benedict moans quietly as their lips touch.

He can't get enough of it, wants to keep kissing the other man for the rest of his life, getting lost in his warmth, waking up to him every morning and falling asleep in his arms.

The thought startles him in its simple clarity; he can't imagine his life without the other one anymore and he's only known him for a few hours.

Felix senses that something troubles him and pulls back, his alert eyes scanning over Benedict's face.

"Sorry," he mutters, taking a step back, "too much too fast?"

Benedict shakes his head.

"No, I just..."

He's lost for words; there's not much he can't say right now without sounding like a lovesick fool.

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to think of something intelligent to say.

"Lunch," he blurts out, blushing a little.

"Sounds good," Felix smiles, not pushing the issue.

Benedict grins sheepishly, the tension in him slowly seeping away.

"I, uh, I cooked some, that's what I meant. Thought you might be hungry. If you're not..."

"Benedict," Felix says softly, waiting for Benedict to stop rambling, "I'm nervous too."

They look at each other and suddenly burst out laughing.

"Come on, I've made my special dish. Nothing fancy, just some chicken," Benedict smiles, nodding towards the kitchen.

Felix follows him, still gently chuckling.

"Smells great," he says as he slides in the chair Benedict motions him to.

"We'll see whether it also tastes good," Benedict jokes, putting the dish on the table before opening a bottle of wine he picked to go with the food.

"I'm sure it does."

"You really have faith in my cooking skills, huh?"

"Of course. You're brilliant at everything you do."

"Not so sure about that."

Felix stops Benedict's hand as he pours wine into his glass.

"I am sure."

His thumb slides over Benedict's wrist, chasing a shiver down his spine.

Benedict has time to notice how small and elegant Felix' fingers are, slightly tanned against his own pale skin.

"God, you're so bloody responsive", Felix mutters, pushing back his chair to stand.

His hand slowly slides up Benedict's arm and his shoulder, curling gently around his neck.

"Would it be too forward," he murmurs, brushing his nose against Benedict's, "if we skip lunch and you take me to bed? I've been dreaming about you all bloody day. I can barely think straight because I want you so much. Which is quite distracting when you're in a meeting, trying to hide a bloody hard-on from your bosses."

A fire instantly blooms in Benedict's stomach and in lieu of an answer he crushes his mouth against Felix', his tongue sliding inside his eagerly waiting mouth.

Both are moaning into a kiss, that fuels the desire that's been burning in Benedict's veins since Felix stepped into his flat.

He closes his arms around the smaller form of the other man, pressing against him, feeling his heart beating against his chest.

When they break the kiss, they're both breathing hard. Felix' eyes are burning into Benedict's, stormy and dark.

"Take me to bed, Benedict," Felix whispers, his voice rough and the sound of it has Benedict groan. He grabs Felix' hand and drags him along to his bedroom.

There he pulls him back in his arms, kissing him desperately, moaning unabashedly.

"I can't wait to take you apart," Felix mutters, his nimble fingers slipping under Benedict's shirt and pushing it over his head.

A thought rushes through Benedict's mind.

"Uh, I... actually, I've never..."

Felix chuckles and kisses his nose.

"I figured you hadn't. Don't worry, we'll take it slow and won't do anything you're not comfortable with."

Benedict avoids those knowing eyes but Felix is not having that.

"Hey," he raises his hand, lifting Benedict's burning face, "anything you wanna do right now, will be fine. I won't..."

Benedict interrupts him with a kiss.

"I know, sorry. It's just that I've never been with a man. I think I know about the...uh, logistics but it's one thing to read about it and another to actually do it."

Felix' eyes shimmer dark in the grey light coming in through the window.

"So you did some research already?"

Benedict shrugs.

"Thought it'd be a good idea."

"So thorough," Felix smiles, kissing a slow trail from Benedict's collarbone down his chest, "I've always admired that in you."

Instead of an answer Benedict moans loudly as Felix' lips close around a nipple and nibble.

"God," he breathes, his hands clawing weakly on Felix' thick jumper.

"Not quite," Felix snickers, lifting his arms and lets Benedict pull of the fabric.

He dives into another heated kiss and clinging to each other they stumble towards the bed, falling on it in a heap of limps and discarded clothes.

Soon they're both only wearing their pants, hands and mouths discovering naked skin.

"Lay back," Felix whispers, pushing Benedict gently down.

"Tell me when it's too much."

"How could anything be too much?," Benedict asks but gasps as Felix' hand trails down his stomach.

"God, you're the most responsive being I've ever met," Felix muses, running both hands up and down Benedict's torso, causing goosebumps to cover his entire body.

As Felix leans down and lets his lips take the same ways his hands did, Benedict's lids flutter closed and he gets lost in the feeling of his mouth, kissing what seems like every single inch of his chest.

"So gorgeous," he hears the other one mutter, "so damn beautiful."

He feels his fingers stop at the waistband of his pants, toying with it.

Blinking his eyes open, he glances down as to where Felix lies between his spread legs, his clouded gaze searching Benedict's face.

He gives a sharp nod.

Felix' hands slide under the fabric, slowly pulling it down over his straining cock. He's never been so hard in his life - at least it feels like it.

And yet Felix isn't touching him where he needs to be touched.

He's kissing down his thigh, fingers caressing the sensitive skin just above Benedict's hipbones.

Whining, he squirms under his administrations, wordlessly willing Felix to go where he wants him.

But the other man just gently bites his calf, his hands pressing him deeper into the mattress.

"Shhh, I've got you," drifts through the loud rushing of blood in Benedict's ears, and he lets go.

He feels as if he's floating, his entire being is centred on Felix' hands and mouth in him, driving him mad with want.

"Felix, please," he begs when he can't take it anymore, "please, touch me."

A low groan drifts through the air and suddenly Felix' hot body is covering his, his heated skin pressing hard against Benedict's.

"Fuck, say that again," he growls, kissing him roughly.

Benedict moans into the kiss, his brain slowly dissolving.

"Please..."

"No, my name," Felix mutters, licking deep into Benedict's mouth, his hard cock rubbing maddeningly close to Benedict's.

"Felix," he purrs and gets rewarded with another heated kiss.

"God yes..."

And then there are no more words, just hands and mouths, touching and kissing.

Benedict manages to slip one hand between their sweaty bodies and as he closes it around Felix' hardness, the feeling of it is almost too much.

It's not the newness of it, he's done this to himself more than he can count, it's the long low groan Felix lets out.

Benedict can't get enough of the needy moans and the choked off noises the other man makes as he slowly strokes him.

Instinctively he does what he himself always liked best, slow, long strokes alternated with quick hard twists.

Felix is rutting against him, his face pressed into Benedict's neck, his hands tangled in his hair.

Benedict almost forgets about his own needs; he's too caught up in the other man, feeling him getting closer and closer to the edge.

This is it, shoots through his hazed mind, giving pleasure instead of receiving, wanting the other one to lose it utterly and completely.

Without noticing they have found a rhythm that suits them both, thrusting against each other, sweat tickling down their faces and chests, slicking their motions.

Benedict's close, he feels the heat of his orgasm, feels the familiar fluttering in his belly.

Sliding his free arm around Felix' back, he holds him tightly, speeding up his moves.

Felix is groaning constantly, making the most amazing noises against Benedict's skin.

Then he shouts, going stiff in his arms and comes, hotness spilling between their bodies.

Benedict isn't far behind; Felix' trembling triggers his own orgasm and with a loud cry he joins in Felix' groaned sighs.

Clinging to each other, the other one's orgasm only doubles the intensity of their own and it takes them a while to come down from their high.

Panting Benedict loosens his grip on Felix who bonelessly slips off him, collapsing onto the bed.

For a while the only sounds in the room are their heavy breaths.

When Benedict's heart slowly calms down, he lazily turns his head to find Felix beaming at him, his face glowing.

He leans over and kisses Benedict softly before he quietly asks:

"Bathroom?"

It takes him all his strength to lift an arm and point in the right direction.

"Be right back," Felix mumbles and slides out of bed.

Benedict's eyes follow his every move, drinking in the smooth play of muscles under tanned skin as the other man vanishes through the door.

He's back only a a minute later, holding a wet towel.

Scrambling back into bed, he gently cleans the mess on Benedict's stomach and then himself before he throws it on the floor.

He stretches out next to Benedict, his head on his shoulder, his hand finding a home around his waist.

"Okay?" he asks, his finger drawing circles over Benedict's skin.

"Hmmmm," he hums contently, scooting closer so he can press against the other man.

"CuddleBatch, that's a new one," Felix says, a smile in his voice.

"One only you know," Benedict murmurs sleepily, kissing Felix' neck.

"I'm honoured."

"You should be."

"I am, Benedict, I am."

They fall silent again.

Post orgasm haze pulls Benedict deeper and deeper and his eyes slide close.

"Nap time," he mutters, fishing blindly for the duvet.

Felix shifts so he can pull it up and soon they're enveloped in warmth and each other's arms.

*

He wakes to darkness. For a second he doesn't know where he is. But then there's a shift next to him, a grumbled noise and he smiles.

He leans over and switches on the lamp on his nightstand. It's only a low light but it's enough.

Felix is still sleeping, his lovely face relaxed, his dark hair tousled.

Benedict lets his eyes roam over his face, trying to memorise every little detail.

The man has freckles dotted randomly over his face and Benedict's fingers itch with the want to count them.

He has a scar just at the base of his nose and another one just above his elegantly swung brow.

Short but thick dark lashes throw fuzzy shadows over his cheeks, his closed lids hiding those magnificent green eyes, Benedict felt instantly drawn to.

Carefully Benedict pulls down the duvet a bit, his eyes drinking in the sight of his toned chest, covered in sparse dark hairs.

There's a small tattoo on his upper arm but Benedict can't make it out in the low lights and promises himself to find out what it is.

"Staring at sleeping people is considered rude."

Felix' voice is rough from sleep but Benedict can hear the smile in it.

"Didn't you know? I can be a rude arsehole."

"Nah, that's not you, that's Sherlock."

Benedict giggles, making Felix groan.

"God, do you have any idea how fucking adorable you sound when you laugh like that?"

Still giggling, Benedict buries his nose against Felix' neck who closes his arms around him.

"No, but keep saying it and I'll become a smug idiot."

"I will keep saying it because it's true."

Sighing happily Benedict mouths kisses over Felix' collarbone, licking over his salty skin, wanting to melt into the man.

"What are you doing to me?" he whispers against his neck, "I feel like a lovesick teenager again. All I wanna do is shout from the rooftop, draw hearts everywhere, let everyone know..."

He falls silent, shocked at the deep desire in his words.

He'd never felt like this: dizzy with emotions, craving the touch, the feel of someone so desperately that the thought of being separated from Felix makes him sick to his stomach.

"I don't know. But I feel the same," Felix replies softly, kissing the top of Benedict's head.

He pulls away, only bit so he can look into Felix' face.

"This isn't normal, innit? I mean, I don't even know you, don't even know your last name and yet I have the feeling I have known you all my life."

Felix' eyes are clear and bright, calming Benedict's hammering heart a bit.

"I don't know what this is but I do know, that you're not alone with that feeling. When I met you last night, when you talked to me even though you didn't want to...gosh, I don't know. It's odd, you're no complete stranger to me, I've been following your career for a while. Told you, total fanboy here, hello."

He grins sheepishly but as he continues it fades.

"I don't say I know you but I know what you mean when you say, it feels as if you know me. It's mutual. It's like I've been searching for you my entire life without knowing. When I saw you last night, in person, I knew, I wanted you. And not only in a sexual way. I want to see what you look like when you wake up in the morning and how you are when you're grumpy. I want to see how you learn lines, hell I even want to experience how it is to fight with you."

He blushes more and more as he says it but never breaks the eye-contact.

"I want to see how you look when you're old and grey, needing glasses to read and maybe a cane to walk up those steps to your flat. I fucking want everything."

Benedict's eyes grow wide; the other man had just put in words what's been on his mind all day.

Wordlessly he pulls Felix into a kiss, hard and deep, pouring all his own emotions into it.

When he breaks the kiss again, Felix sighs and that little sound has Benedict swallow around a sudden lump in his throat.

"You know," Felix murmurs, "I've dreamed about meeting you but never thought it'd happen. And now I am here, in your bed, with you in my arms. This is more than I ever fantasied about. Wait, _am_ I dreaming?"

Benedict gently sucks Felix' lower lip in his mouth, biting the tender flesh gently and Felix gasps.

"Doesn't feel like a dream to me, no," he answers his own question, returning the kiss.

"And if it's a dream, it's one I don't want to wake from," Benedict whispers and deepens the kiss.

And for a while there's no more talking.

 


	3. Afternoon walk

"One hell of a first date," Felix says much later, sitting in the kitchen in only a shirt and pants, nursing a coffee.

"Eh, you know me, I'm _very_ thorough," Benedict replies lightly, peeking into the oven.

They eventually left bed and got dressed when their stomachs started complaining really loudly.

Benedict is reheating their lunch - dinner now - before he joins Felix at the table, pulling his feet under him as he sits opposite him.

He watches Felix who's looking out of the window, his heart jumping with joy at the sight.

Felix feels his gaze and turns, smiling at him.

"That you are indeed. How's dinner going? I'm starving."

"Few more minutes."

Felix tilts his head, taking another sip from his mug.

"I wanna know so much about you, I don't even know where to start," he says softly.

Benedict reaches out, brushing his hand over Felix', laying on the table.

"We have all the time in the world for that," he replies quietly, "but whatever you wanna know, ask away. But only if you grant me the same."

"Anything for you, Benedict, don't you know that yet?"

Benedict's heart flutters at the affection he hears in Felix' tone.

"Yes, I know," he whispers, overwhelmed by the deep devotion he already feels for the other man.

Clearing his throat he stands to check on their dinner.

Felix' hand slides lovingly over his side as he passes by him.

"Anything," he hears him whisper and knows with every fibre of his being that he'll never let him go.

*

After dinner, Benedict suggests a walk and Felix agrees instantly.

They dress warmly - it's still snowing - and step outside.

It's dark already even though it's only 5 in the afternoon.

The streets are empty, only occasionally do they pass someone hurrying by.

"I love the snow. It's horror to drive in it, especially in London but I always feel like a kid when it snows like this," Felix says as they wander down the street.

Benedict nods; he knows that feeling just too well.

He leads them towards the park just around the corner and they aimlessly stroll over the snowy paths.

Forgotten fairy lights blink in the dark like tiny beacons, illuminating the way for the two men.

They're alone in the park and for Benedict it feels as if they're the only two people in the world.

Hands are stuffed into pockets to keep them warm but there's a pull between them that draws them towards each other. Bumping shoulders while walking, brushing arms against the other one, neither is able to not search the contact for long.

"So," Benedict asks after a while, "what are you doing for a living?"

Felix chuckles.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask."

"There were more important things," Benedict pouts.

Felix turns his head, smiling at him.

"I know. I am a writer. Freelance mostly, some articles and interviews here and there. Mainly I am working on a novel though but that's not paying the bills. Not yet that is."

Benedict stops in his tracks, something suddenly crossing his mind.

"Wait, didn't you do an interview with James for the Times a few years back? I can't remember it all but..."

Felix grins and nods.

"Yes, that was me. He's an extraordinary pianist and when the opportunity arose to interview him, I bribed my boss to let me do it. He's fantastic. Invited me to a concert once or twice and blew me away. And I'm usually not one to like classical music."

Benedict groans softly.

"I think I remember him telling me about that. He was full of praise for you. Finally somebody to ask the right questions, he said. God, if I'd only knew..."

Felix' hand slips out of his pocket, brushing gently over Benedict's arm.

"How could you? I knew you and him are friends and of course it would have been great to meet you but I didn't want to use him to get to you. And back then I might not have been able to control my fanboy as much as I can now."

Benedict chuckles.

"I would've been too wrapped up in my own head anyways. When was that interview? 2006?"

"2007."

"See, I was chasing everything in a skirt back then. I would've dismissed just another fan in a heartbeat. Especially a male one."

Felix snorts.

"Well, that has changed."

Benedict stops and turns towards him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I...I still need to get used to, to being..."

He blushes and looks away.

"Being with a man?" Felix whispers.

Benedict nods, the hot flush on his face deepening.

"Hey," Felix murmurs, ducking his head to look him in the eyes, "this is new for me too. I've known that I like men for quite a while but I've never felt so strongly for anybody before. So you're not alone in this, 'kay? We'll take it slowly. I know it won't be easy but I'm certain we'll manage, don't you think?"

Relief and joy rush through Benedict as he looks into Felix' understanding eyes and he knows that whatever happens, it'll be worth it.

He hasn't quite thought further than tonight and resolutely pushes any thought about a possible coming out to the back of his mind but of course it can't be avoided forever.

It's not that he's having a problem with being labeled as gay or bi, he's never given a rat's ass about that. But he also knows it'll make their lives hell for a while until the press finds something else to sink their teeth into.

He himself is sure he can deal with it, but he's worried about Felix. The paps will eat him alive.

"Don't worry, I will deal with whatever is thrown at me. At us," Felix says, reading Benedict's thoughts.

"You have no idea," Benedict grumbles, the image of Felix being terrorised by the press making his stomach twist.

"I might not but I know it'll be worth it. Don't you worry about me, Love, I can take care of myself."

Felix' words are certain and confident and even though Benedict should know better, he lets it go - for now. They can think about that when it's time.

"I really hope so," he mutter nevertheless but Felix' mouth on his stops him.

It's only a brush of cold lips against lips but it lights a tiny fire in Benedict's stomach that wipes out everything else.

"Stop brooding. We'll think about that when we get there."

Felix has pulled back already, his hands back in his pockets but his intense gaze helps Benedict to relax again.

Another thought occurs to him and he stops again.

"When do you have to leave?"

"Not for a while," Felix says softly, "that meeting today went well and now I have a few days all to myself."

"Will you stay with me then?"

Benedict's voice is hoarse and so wishful, it makes Felix smile. He casts a glance around and lays a hand on Benedict's face, his thumb caressing his cheek.

"Of course. You'll have to kick me out to get rid of me."

"Thank goodness," Benedict mumbles and leans down to kiss Felix.

He intended to make it only brief but Felix' hand slides to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

His tongue glides sensually over his lower lip and with a groan Benedict deepens the kiss.

They lose each other in it, a hot desire is surging through Benedict's limbs and makes him forget the cold.

Snow is covering the two men, powdering their embraced forms in white, enveloping them like a blanket.

Felix breaks the kiss, his breath coming in harsh pants.

"God, I could kiss you all day long. Your mouth..."

His words are hushed but Benedict hears the deep longing in them, growling lowly in return.

"Let's go back," he says, trying to ignore the blood rushing south at the fire in Felix' eyes.

They turn in sync, heading back to Benedict's flat.

The cool air between them is sizzling and as Benedict casts a side-glance at Felix, he sees that the other man is just as eager to get back as he is.

It takes all his self-control to not run the last few metres but only barely.

His fingers are cold and trying to get the key into the lock seems impossible.

Felix giggles helplessly as Benedict drops them into the snow in front of the door, cursing wildly in frustration.

"Here," Felix says, laying his hand on Benedict's as he tries again.

"That. Is. Not. Helping," he grits out between his teeth, the touch only shooting another rush of feverish need through his veins.

"Sorry," Felix chuckles but eventually they manage to get the door open.

Benedict pushes Felix inside but instead of climbing the stairs to his flat, he grabs his arm and pulls him against him.

Their noses touch and even through four layers of clothing Benedict can feel Felix' hardness against his leg.

Growling lowly he crushes their mouths together, their tongues meeting in a desperate dance.

"Flat...now..." Felix mutters between nips at his lower lip, "please... or Imma lose it right here."

Benedict pulls back, panting heavily and grabs Felix' hand.

Together they race up the stairs, another fumble with the key between heated kisses and needy groping and then they're inside.

Felix pushes Benedict against the closed door and proceeds kissing him.

Low moans tumble from his lips, his arms going tightly around the other man, wanting to crawl into him, devour him from the inside.

They claw at each other's clothes, helplessly giggling at their clumsiness.

Eventually they manage to get each other naked and before Benedict knows what's happening, Felix sinks on his knees, taking his aching cock in his mouth.

Benedict cries out in pleasure, his hands fluttering through the air, before they settle in Felix' hair.

The feeling of his wet mouth is driving him mad. The heat, the tightness is reducing him to a quivering mess.

His knees tremble heavily and he has to steady himself with a hand against the doorframe.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he babbles, his head lolling about as Felix sucks harder.

His hands slide up Benedict's legs and settle over his hips, pressing him against the hard wood, steadying him a bit.

Sucking him deeper, his tongue does the most amazing things to Benedict's cock, swirling maddeningly slow over the head, teasing the sensitive flesh.

An endless stream of curses fall from his mouth, his fingers tighten in Felix' hair as he takes him apart, bit by bit.

"Felix...I..."

Felix' hands dig deeper into his flesh, his mouth closing hard around his throbbing cock, not letting go and with a muffled scream Benedict comes.

His vision goes black for a second and his head is dizzy as he feels Felix swallow around him, licking gently at the oversensitive flesh.

Very slowly he regains control over his body and mind again.

Scrambling for Felix shoulders he wants to pull him up, wants to kiss his own taste out of his mouth but the man's kneeling on the floor, his head presses tightly against Benedict's leg.

"Felix..." Benedict pleas but a loud moan interrupts him.

Felix is shaking heavily, low groans filling the air and Benedict finally notices the frantic motions against his calf.

"No," he whines; he wanted to do that, wanted to take him apart, slowly and with everything he has.

He feels the other man stiffen, hears him bite back a curse and then collapse onto the floor.

Felix' hand on his hips, holding him up, slide down and Benedict slowly sinks to the floor as well.

Felix' ragged breath is the only sound, his hand is still around his own spent cock, his shoulders slightly trembling in the aftermath.

Benedict reaches out, caressing Felix' face and he leans into his touch.

"I wanted to do that," Benedict eventually whispers and Felix chuckles.

"Sorry, couldn't help it. Seeing and hearing you losing it, was too much. Couldn't wait..."

Benedict grumbles a little but as Felix looks up and their eyes meet, Benedict smiles at the affection in the other man's eyes.

"Next time."

Benedict nods and leans forwards, licking a stripe over Felix shoulder, moaning at the salty taste of his skin.

They catch their breath, awkwardly propped against each other on the hard floor.

"Shower?" Benedict murmurs somewhat later, trying to sort out his numb limbs.

"Sounds heavenly," Felix agrees, stretching and carefully scrambles to his feet, helping Benedict up as well.

Hand in hand they walk into the bathroom.

Benedict turns on the shower and searches for another towel while Felix steps under the water.

The tiny noises of pleasure he makes as the hot water washes over him, make Benedict's cock stir again.

Quickly he joins the other man, slinging his arms around him from behind, pressing his face between his shoulder blades.

Felix hums happily, his hands covering Benedict's around his waist.

They stand like that for a while before Benedict grudgingly lets go and reaches for the shampoo.

"Can I?" Felix ask shyly and without a word Benedict hands him the bottle.

He squirts a bit into his palms and then rubs the white liquid into Benedict's hair, his hands warm and gentle on his scalp.

He moans quietly; it feels wonderful. Felix' fingers comb through his curls, spreading the shampoo all over his head, softly massaging the skin.

Relaxing entirely into his gentle touch, he's close to purring.

"Seriously, can you stop that?"

Felix' amused voice drifts through the hazy sleepiness and he lifts his head.

"Hmm?"

"The purring. Stop it. It's distracting."

Felix' hand slips between his legs, covering his half hard cock.

Benedict's eyes follow his movement and he involuntarily licks his lips.

"Who's the responsive one now," Benedict murmurs, nuzzling Felix' neck, nibbling gently at his skin.

Felix groans but pushes him back.

"How could I not with such a gorgeous thing in my arms. But I'm not the youngest anymore so if you don't wanna wear me out before my time, you better stop it right there."

Benedict pouts excessively but takes a step back, letting the water rinse out the shampoo in his hair. He feels blessedly sleepy so Felix is probably right.

He's also not the youngest anymore and the thought of his bed in the other room is very inviting.

"You stay the night?" he asks as he turns of the water, handing Felix a towel.

"I told you, you have to kick me out to get rid of me," Felix whispers, his green gaze bright in the lights of the room.

They look at each for what seems an eternity before Benedict turns away, hiding the sudden rush of emotions from the other man.

Felix' unconditional affection is getting to him with every moment he spends with him.

Drying themselves quickly they walk back into the bedroom, crawling into bed naked.

"I haven't been in bed by 7 since I was a child," Felix says, curling himself around Benedict, his body fitting perfectly against Benedict's longer limbs.

"Me neither. Don't mind it at all though."

He feels Felix' smile against his chest and wraps his arms tighter around the other man.

He is warm and still a bit damp, his skin soft under Benedict's restless fingers, wanting to map every inch of the other one.

"'s odd," he murmurs into Felix' hair, cuddling even closer,"I always thought I'd marry conventionally one day, having a wife, having the average 2.5 kids, a white picket fence somewhere outside of London. I don't know, that was what was always in my head. But now... there's you and everything I always wanted is suddenly unimportant. As long as I have you, I don't need anything else."

Felix is silent for a while before he whispers.

"But you're sorry, that you can't have kids."

Benedict flinches at that; he is indeed. Ever since they met, the thought has been running through his mind, although he desperately tries to ignore it.

"Yes. Don't get me wrong..."

Felix makes a soothing sound, his hand sliding up from between their bodies and settles on Benedict's cheek.

"I know. You always wanted them, you've talked so much about it..."

"Oh god, I shouldn't have done that, should I?"

"No, my heart. That is one of the things, I admire you for. You don't hold back, don't keep in what troubles or amazes you. You always speak your mind even if you shouldn't. But that's exactly what makes you such a wonderful actor and an even more amazing man."

Benedict blinks rapidly, tears burning behind his lids.

He swallows hard and kisses Felix' lips.

"I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do."

They kiss slowly, languidly, passion and heat satiated for now, and replaced by deeper emotions.

They fall asleep with a smile on their faces, noses bumping, arms and legs entwined, trying to become one.

 

 

 


	4. Breakfast

His mobile wakes him just after 8 the next morning. Again.

Cursing quietly he mutes it quickly before he glares at it.

James. Three missed calls.

Probably wanting to know why he left without saying goodbye the other night.

Benedict looks over his shoulder but Felix is still sound asleep.

He slips out of bed, quickly dresses in old jeans and a t-shirt and walks into the kitchen.

Switching on the coffeemaker he hits the speed-dial with James' number.

It rings only twice before his friend answers.

"About fucking time, Cumberbatch, I was about to send a SWAT team around your place."

Benedict grins, James always comes straight to the point.

"Good morning to you too, James. How are you on this wonderful morning?"

Biting his lip to avoid the giggle bubbling up, Benedict fixes himself a coffee and sits down by the window.

"It's 8 in the morning, why are you so ... cheery?"

Benedict can almost see the sneer on his friend's face and laughs.

"Your call woke me and now you're complaining that I'm not ripping your head off for being up at this god awful hour? There's something seriously wrong with you, Rhodes."

He hears him snort in disbelief but quickly getting back to the point.

"So," he inquires, "why did you sneak out like that? I'd barely talked to you and when I went looking for you, you were gone. Nobody saw you leave. And the chick Amanda wanted to set you up with was still there, happily flirting with Lee."

Benedict's eyes involuntarily go to the hall that leads to his bedroom.

To tell or not to tell.

James is one of his closest friends, he's going to tell him anyway, it's just a matter of time.

"Spit it out, man, I can hear your brain rattle," James says and that settles it.

"Well," Benedict mutters, considering how to broach the subject to his friend.

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"I've met someone," he says, the corners of his mouth instantly lifting when he thinks about Felix.

"You...what? Who? Besides Karen and one the boys' sister there weren't any new people at the party. Or did you mean, you've met someone somewhere else? When? If you've kept a girlfriend from me for who knows how long, I'll kill you. I am your best friend, I have sleepless nights over your single life, man."

The last is dripping with sarcasm, making Benedict grin.

"You don't lose any sleep over me, mate, your fiancée makes sure of that," he shoots back.

"Hmpf, doesn't mean I still don't worry about you. So shoot, who is she, where did you met her and even more important, when will I meet her?"

James' questions are fired rapidly, blurring into one long stream of words.

"Breathe, James," Benedict chuckles but going by the impatient noises at the other end, that's the last he wants.

"Tell me," he whines and Benedict laughs again.

"It's still new," Benedict starts slowly, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest, "and you are wrong, there were new people at the party..."

He lets the sentence hang in the air; a tiny ball of fear suddenly coiling in his stomach.

This is it.

The first time telling someone.

He's sure his friend won't judge him, he knows he's never been one to care about labels but still.

Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and says:

"His name is Felix."

Silence.

As Benedict slowly opens his eyes, Felix stands in the door, watching him calmly. He is wearing one of Benedict's shirts, his hair is tousled and one side of his face still shows the pillow imprint.

Their eyes meet and Benedict gains strength from Felix' serene presence.

He doesn't move, he seems to sense that this is something Benedict has to get through on his own but he stays where he is, his eyes never leaving Benedict's.

"James? You still there?"

A huffed laugh and then:

"Yes, sorry, just need to let that sink in for a second. You sneaky bastard," he cackles, "don't tell me all the attempts to set you up with those women were completely futile?!"

Benedict shakes his head before he remembers that his friend can't see it.

"No, it just...happened. I saw him and just knew that is it..."

He smiles shyly at Felix who mirrors it and slowly walks into the room. He doesn't say a word but as he reaches him, he slides a hand into Benedict's hair who leans against him, sighing happily at the contact.

"Wait, is he with you right now? Dude, hang up and ...don't know, make him breakfast or something."

Benedict bites back another laugh at the deeply indignant tone in James' voice.

"Mate, you called me, I just..."

"Hush, I didn't know you were busy."

He puts as much innuendo as possible into the last word and they both break out in laughter.

"So you're okay with that?" Benedict can't help but ask, Felix' hand in his hair tightens for a second before it resumes its soothing caresses.

"Ben, please. As long as you're happy, I am happy for you."

A relieved sigh falls from Benedict's lips; he hadn't realised how much he wanted his best friend's approval.

"Thank you, James, that means a lot."

"Wait a second. Felix, Felix, that name rings a bell..."

Benedict searches Felix' eyes and smiles.

"You did an interview a few years back with him. For the _Times_ , do you remember?"

James is quiet for a while and Benedict can imagine his scrunched up face, desperately trying to recall it.

"Fuck, yes, of course. He was one of the few people who didn't ask the standardised rubbish most journos ask. Nice dude, pretty eyes."

Benedict slips his free hand around Felix' waist and under his shirt, his lids fluttering as he touches warm skin.

"Yes, they're quite magnificent," he murmurs, leaning his head against Felix' stomach.

James makes a undefined sound but laughs.

"Then go back to him. And Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for telling me. I suppose it's going to be a secret? At least for a while?"

"That would be wise. At least for now."

"No worries, my lips are sealed. Now go back to your man. We'll talk when you have some spare time."

"I'll call you," Benedict says and disconnects the call, putting the phone on the table.

Felix' closes both arms around his shoulder, caressing his back, easing the tension Benedict hadn't noticed had build during the call.

"Morning," he mumbles, kissing the top of Benedict's head before he lets go and sits next to him.

He pulls his feet up, wrapping his arms around them, his emerald eyes calm on Benedict's.

"Morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby. Is there coffee?"

Benedict nods and wants to get up but Felix' hand around his midst holds him back.

"I know how hard it is to tell someone," he says quietly, "and I also know how scary it can be. You have wonderful friends."

Benedict looks down at him, his heart overflowing with affection for this incredible man.

"Yes I do," he replies, carding his fingers gently through Felix' mussed hair, smiling as the other man leans into his touch.

"It gets easier, if that's any help," he murmurs, pressing a kiss onto Benedict's stomach.

"As long as I have you, I can tackle everything," Benedict states and leans down, pulling the other man into tight hug.

Felix' hums lowly and they stay like that for a while until Benedict's back protests at the half squatted position.

He straightens his back and lets go of the other man.

"Coffee you said? Coming right up. Anything to go with it?" he asks as he prepares a fresh mug, retrieving milk and sugar and puts it on the table.

"You?" Felix says, smiling cheekily at him. Benedict blushes; he'll never get used to the feelings Felix evokes in him.

"I mean something to eat," he replies roughly, blood rushing loudly in his ears.

"I know," Felix purrs, winking at him, "but you look bloody delicious right now."

"Uhm..."

Felix chuckles and takes a drink of his coffee.

"God, I love how I can make you blush."

Benedict squirms a bit under Felix' intense gaze. Felix notices and beckons him over, patting the chair next to his.

"Stop fussing and come here for a second."

As Benedict sits back down, Felix turns, cradling his face into his hands.

"You need to relax, Benedict. I know everything's going a bit too quickly, we didn't have the normal getting to know each other phase. But you know what? That's fine, we make up for that. And to answer your question, coffee is all I need right now. And a kiss maybe?"

He smiles lopsidedly at Benedict who eagerly obliges and brushes a kiss over Felix' lips.

"Thank you," he murmurs, "I guess I need some time to get used to all this."

"I know."

Benedict leans back, scanning Felix' face intently.

"Why is it that you always seem to know what I'm thinking and then say just the right thing?" he asks quietly.

Felix' takes a drink of his coffee.

"I don't know. I reckon it's the fact that almost everything shows on your face, in your body language. You're the most readable person I have ever met."

Benedict huffs a dry laugh.

"I'm not sure whether that's a good or a bad thing with being an actor."

He empathises the last word, frowning a little which makes Felix smile.

"Yeah well, but right now you're hopefully just yourself. I'd bet if I ask your friends and people who know you well, they'll agree with me. Doing your job as wonderfully as you do, I have the feeling you are glad when you just can let go."

Benedict shrugs, considering Felix words.

"Perhaps."

They fall silent for a while.

"When do you have to go back to work?" Felix asks as he's finishes his coffee.

"Not before the 19th."

"So we have about a week to get to know each other better."

Benedict flinches. The thought of leaving Felix anytime soon shoots a jolt of cold panic through his heart.

"Hey," Felix says and leans closer, taking Benedict's hand, "don't think about it just yet."

Benedict squeezes Felix' hand and sighs.

"I try to. But I'll be gone for at least a month, perhaps even longer depending on how shooting goes. God, why now?"

"Because it's your job and you'll be brilliant at it. As always."

He takes Benedict's mug and sets it on the table before he lays a hand on his face.

"And now, stop brooding."

He follows those words with a kiss, shy at first but quickly Benedict catches on. His fingers slide over Felix' arms and settle around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.

Lips open and tongues meet, dancing lazily around each other. It's slow and sensual and for Benedict it feels dreamlike.

He moans as Felix' sucks his lower lip, biting carefully at the sensitive flesh. His hands are trailing down his back and under his shirt, caressing naked skin.

They kiss unhurriedly, mapping each others mouth, utterly lost in it.

Felix breaks it eventually, placing butterfly kisses all over Benedict's face instead, his fingers carding through Benedict's hair as he searches his eyes.

"Let's go back to bed," he murmurs, groaning lowly as Benedict sneaks a hand up his leg.

He hums approvingly but doesn't move. Instead he slowly glides his fingers over the inside of Felix' thigh, inching closer to his groin. Teasingly he scratches his nails carefully over the thin skin there and bites his lips as Felix throws his head back, groaning loudly.

Heat's coiling in Benedict's stomach as he pushes Felix' legs apart, both his hands on the inside of the other man's thighs now.

Fingertips sneak higher, inching closer to the bulge in Felix' pants.

Then the phone rings.

Benedict curses wildly and sits back, glancing at the mobile's screen.

"Shit. I'm sorry, I have to get that."

Felix sighs but nods.

"Of course."

"Sorry," Benedict mutters, reaching for the phone.

"Hello?"

He casts an apologetic look at Felix and stands, unconsciously adjusting himself in his trousers, making Felix bite back a moan.

Ducking his head, Benedict turns his back to him, concentrating on his agent on the other end of the most untimely call ever.

 

 


	5. Felix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felix' POV (continued storyline)

Snow is blowing into his face, harsh and freezing but he doesn't really care. His step is light and a fire is glowing in his veins that keeps him warm. 

Even the handles of the heavy shopping bags digging deep into his palms aren't bothering him. 

He turns the corner and a smile is spreading over his face. 

Funny, he thinks as he walks the last few metres towards Benedict's flat, it feels like coming home. 

Carefully to not slip, he climbs the steps towards the front door and rings the door bell. A buzz and he's inside, shaking the snow from his head. 

More steps and then there's Benedict's beautiful face, and the man himself eagerly coming towards him, taking the shopping bags and ushering him back into the warmth of the flat. 

"Goodness, did you buy the entire shop? I should have come with you, really, those weigh a ton," he rambles, walking into the kitchen, still muttering under his breath. 

Felix' snickers to himself as he hangs his jacket by the door and kicks his shoes off his feet before following Benedict into the kitchen. 

"Seriously, how the hell did you carry all this in weather like that?" Benedict asks, frowning at him.

"I'm secretly a superhero, didn't you know that," Felix teases and slaps Benedict's hands away as he wants to start unpacking. 

"Shoo, you nosy man. I said, it's a surprise, leave it." 

Benedict pouts adorably but takes a step back. 

Felix points at the table. 

"Sit and be nice, perhaps I’ll let you watch." 

Benedict glares at him but walks over and sits, folding his hands on the table, his eyes never leaving Felix as he starts unpacking. 

"So," he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his dark voice, "what are you cooking for me? Which you don't have to do, you know? You're _my_ guest, I should cook for you." 

Felix only grins and keeps producing delicacies, lining them up on the counter.

"Not telling you. You cooked away everything in the fridge for me, now it's my turn." 

Grumbling Benedict leans back, shooting Felix a dark glare that makes his blood boil. 

"And stop looking at me like that or you’ll have to go to bed hungry," he warns, ignoring his faster beating heart. 

"Och, I don't mind being hungry when I have you in my bed," Benedict growls, dropping his tone to a seductive groan. 

Felix shivers in delight; it's a shameless offer but he's determined to repay Benedict's generosity of the past days. 

"Later," he says hoarsely, turning away from the heat in Benedict's eyes. 

Busying himself with sorting through his shopping he organises everything to his needs. 

It's day four of him being here and since they’ve run out of basically everything - they had the last toast this morning - he had offered to do the shopping. Benedict had protested wildly. He had said, they could order take-out or make an order online and have everything delivered like he usually did. Felix knew that he barely went shopping himself as it ended with him being recognised most of the time. There were days when he didn't mind but today he so wasn't in the mood for that. 

But Felix wanted to get a few other things he didn't want to tell Benedict about just yet and so he got dressed and despite his protests went to the shop around the corner. 

Turning he hides the flush on his face from Benedict's sharp eyes on him; only thinking about what he's got in his jacket pockets makes his trousers become rather tight. 

They've spent the past few days mostly in bed, discovering each other's bodies. But they've also spent quite some time just talking. They've chatted away an entire night, too enthralled in their conversation to notice the time. 

Felix smiles happily when he thinks back to that night. They had watched the sun rise over the hills, wrapped around each other and a blanket, wordlessly cuddling closer to the other one. 

It had felt magical for Felix, the darkness of the sky slowly brightening, Benedict's strong arms wrapped around him, their hands entwined, their hearts beating in synch.

And Benedict slowly but surely lost his shyness about their unique situation. 

Felix grins when he thinks back to the morning they had teased each other so much that it took only a few touches to make the other one come. 

They were a fantastic team - couple, he corrects himself in his head - as if they were made for each other. 

There are moments when Felix just has to sit back to watch Benedict, and realise that the man is his and his alone. 

He would have never imagined that. Never in a million years. 

"I'm a lucky man," he mutters to himself. 

"Yes, you are," Benedict says directly behind him, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist. 

Felix hadn't heard him move but leans against his warm body and buzzes contently. 

"I was just thinking," he says, turning to face Benedict. 

"You were?" he teases, grinning mischievously, "'bout what?" 

"You and me. And how lucky I am. And probably how very much dead I'll be once this comes out. Your fans are going to lynch me for snatching away the most popular bachelor." 

Benedict chuckles. 

"At least they'll stop harassing me." 

"Hm, wouldn't be too sure about that. They might want to prove that you just haven't found the right one yet and try to turn you around again." 

"There's nothing to 'turn around'," he grumbles, pulling Felix tighter against his chest. 

"Hey, I know that and they'll see that too. They might just need some time to adjust...just like you did." 

Benedict leans back, his eyes shining cobalt blue, his brows furrow slightly. 

"This isn't going to be easy, is it?" he asks, the playfulness suddenly gone. 

Felix swallows around the lump in his throat. 

"No," he whispers, "probably not." 

He can see Benedict's brain work, has seen it every now and then over the past days, and he hates it. 

As happy and high on endorphins he is most of the time he's with him, he knows how hard Benedict's coming out will be. He's been there years ago and even though he's never been famous, the spiteful comments of some of his friends and colleagues were hard to stomach. 

He's over that; that time had showed him who he could count on and thankfully the ones who didn't want to stay friends with him, were few. 

But for Benedict it's going to be a much bigger deal: it'll make the headlines of papers and TV shows, will be discussed in all its detail on national and probably even international platforms. The internet and the fandom will go crazy over it and there's nothing Felix can do.

Well, there is one thing. 

He can be there with him, for him, support him as much as possible, show him for what he's doing it all. 

And hope it's worth it. 

"I can hear your mind rattle, Love, stop it," Benedict murmurs, pressing a kiss on Felix' nose. 

"I could tell you the same," he replies but lets himself be pulled into a soft kiss. 

There's nothing in the world that'll keep him from kissing those full lips. Benedict's mouth is haunting him in his dreams, even though he's laying right next to him at night, his arms tightly wound around him. 

He can’t get enough of it, of Benedict's way of kissing him. 

Gentle and sweet in the morning when they’ve just woke as if relearning how to do so. 

Hard and demanding when passion suddenly takes over, diving deep into his mouth, kissing like a starving man. 

Languid and deep, mapping and memorising Felix' mouth with his own, when they lay in bed, sweaty and in post orgasmic bliss. 

 _If I never can have his body, his kisses will be all I need_ , Felix thinks as he deepens the kiss, his hands slipping under Benedict's thin shirt. He caresses his back, letting his fingers slide slowly over his skin, warm and smooth. 

Benedict shivers in his arms, moaning quietly into their kiss. 

Felix' is still a bit in awe as to how responsive the man is to his touch. Sometimes it just takes one caress, one brush of skin against skin to have him bite his lip, have his eyes go dark with desire. 

One day, Felix ponders, he's going to tie him to the bed and take him apart with only his mouth and hands. 

But right now Benedict is kissing him, hands greedily pushing under his jumper and soon Felix' world is reduced to Benedict's lips on his. 

"I want you." 

Benedict's voice is hoarse and thick with need as he pulls back.

Felix' knees go weak at the open longing in his face. 

"You have me," he whispers back. 

Benedict shakes his head. 

"No, I _want_ you...inside me..." 

His cheeks are burning red as he murmurs it, the flush spreading down his neck and Felix' more than interested cock jumps at the thought. 

"Oh god," Felix croaks, sealing his lips over Benedict's, kissing him feverishly. 

He's been wanting this since their first night together but he's held back. He doesn't want to overwhelm the other man. He's promised to take it slowly and even though it's hard, he stands by it. This all is new for Benedict and Felix knows that. He's left it all up to the other man. 

Hearing him actually say it now, spikes a burning desire in his veins. 

Despite the fact that he's rock hard he breaks the kiss and searches Benedict's eyes. 

"Are you sure about this?" he asks. 

Benedict nods, the flush on his face deepens. 

"Yes," he says, squaring his shoulders. 

Instead of an answer Felix kisses him again before he pulls back entirely, taking a step back. 

"Don't get me wrong, I in no way meant to push you but I think we'll need what I mainly went shopping for today," he says roughly. 

He walks back into the hallway to get what he hid in his jacket pocket earlier. 

Benedict follows him like a silent shadow. 

"I just thought it'd be good to have it handy." 

Felix fishes out the lube and the condoms, wordlessly holding it out to the other man. 

"Boy scout, eh?" 

Benedict's voice drops an octave as he says it, his gaze glued to the items in Felix' hand. 

"Benedict, it's entirely your call," Felix says urgently, scanning the man's face carefully, "you don't have to do this  if you think you _have_ to, you know that?! I told you, I'm happy with everything you can give me." 

"Don't be silly," Benedict replies, taking a step closer, "I've been thinking about this for a while now. Just..." he swallows, "be gentle, 'kay?" 

"Oh Love, of course I will," Felix says, grabbing a fistful of Benedict's shirt and pulling him into a hard, short kiss. 

"But dinner first." 

Benedict's eyes go wide in disbelief. 

Felix has no idea what made him say it; it'll be torture to prepare and eat knowing what they'll be doing after.

"You're kidding," Benedict says in such a shocked tone that Felix has to bite back a laugh. 

They're both incredibly turned on, the air between them is sizzling with sexual tension and he's going to make them wait. 

"No," Felix replies firmly, ignoring the protesting voice in his head. 

"I didn't go to the shops through ice and snow to let the stuff rot in the kitchen. Shoo, off you go, I have preparations to make and if you're a good boy, I'll even let you help." 

Benedict actually growls at him but turns on his heels and stomps back into the kitchen. 

Felix groans at the sight of Benedict's lovely backside. He quickly disappears into the bedroom and deposits the supplies on the bedside table before he heads back into the kitchen. 

 

The next two hours are torture. For both of them. 

Benedict never looks away from Felix unless he has to.

And Felix makes sure he's doing so as often as he can: he lets him chop vegetables even though he quickly realises that wasn't the best idea. Benedict's hands are trembling slightly and he's barely paying attention to what he's doing. 

Felix has to remind him twice to keep his eye on the knife to prevent him from cutting himself. 

The atmosphere in the kitchen is charged, every accidental brush of hands has sparks flying between them and Felix curses himself for being an idiot. 

It takes double the time for him to make dinner than normally and when they eventually sit down to eat, they're both practically vibrating with need. 

Benedict tries to make conversation but after the fourth attempt he just throws his fork on the plate and leans forward. 

"You'll pay for this," he says through gritted teeth, "I have no idea how but I'll make you pay. Dinner, my ass. You've barely touched it and yet you even insist on bloody dessert." 

Felix' lids flutter closed: Benedict's using the lower registers of his voice on purpose. He knows exactly how Felix loves his voice and right now he's playing with him. 

Benedict huffs a dark laugh and leans forward. 

"That is turning you on, innit? Teasing me like this? Well, my dear, two can play that game. There's ice cream, right? Well, how about this: you, spread out on my bed, covered in it. Now imagine this..." 

Benedict's eyes drill deep into Felix' who can't move and is staring back like deer in headlight. 

He's purring the words now, deliberately low and quiet which is chasing shivers down Felix spine and makes him shudder in anticipation. 

"I'm going to lick it off of you, every single bit of it..." 

He wants to continue but Felix' has had enough, his entire body is tense as a string, Benedict's hoarse voice almost painful in his ears. 

"You, bedroom, now," he hisses as he stands, pointing a shaking hand towards the door. 

"Go now or I can't guarantee for anything. You're an evil man, Benedict." 

"Just paying back..." 

"GO!" 

Benedict chuckles but obliges, his hips swaying seductively as he vanishes into the hallway. 

Felix scrabbles for a hold on the table, taking deep, steadying breaths. 

Jesus Christ, he needs to calm down, otherwise it's going to be a very short first time. 

Suddenly _his_ first time comes to mind; his boyfriend at the time did the same: riled him up to no end to ease the fright Felix had back then. 

It had worked just fine and unconsciously he has used the same trick on Benedict. 

 _Let's hope it works for him too_ , Felix thinks as he slowly walks down the hallway. The last thing he wants to do is hurt him, he'd rather never have actual sex with him. He's already far too much in love with the man at this point to risk causing him pain.

Smiling he stops just in front of the closed bedroom door, laying a hand on the dark wood that holds the man he's fallen for so hard he can't imagine being without him anymore.   

He takes a deep breath and carefully opens the door. 

The sight he's presented with knocks the air out of his lungs. 

Benedict lays on the bed, still dressed but his hand is shoved inside his jeans, moving slowly under the thick fabric. 

"There you are, thought I have to start without you," he purrs, his pupils huge even from where Felix stands. 

"Jesus Fucking Christ," he murmurs, watching trancelike the hypnotic up and down of Benedict's hand. 

"Are you coming here or do I have to finish on my own," Benedict asks, gasping as he squeezes himself hard. 

Felix swallows and takes one step toward the bed. 

"Hands off," he groans and Benedict immediately obeys, pulling his hand out and Felix moans again as he sees the tell tale glistening on his palm. 

"If your fans could see you right now," he growls, pulling his shirt over his head, "the sweet humble Benedict, all needy and wanting." 

Felix is dizzy with want himself as he crawls onto the bed, kneeling at Benedict's feet, his gaze sliding greedily over the man in front of him. 

"But I don't want _them_ , I want you and only you. So would you finally come here and make me yours," Benedict whispers, his raspy voice barely audible. 

Felix throws himself on him, their lips finding each other instantly. 

The kiss is heated, all the pent up passion, all the deep desire for one another flowing into one kiss. 

"You are already mine," Felix mutters against Benedict's mouth, "just as I am yours." 

"I know," Benedict replies, his fingers slipping between their bodies, fumbling with Felix trousers. 

"Get these off, for fuck's sake," he groans and Felix sits back, barely able to open the button but eventually managing.

He pushes them off, making quick work with Benedict's as well while the man gets rid of his shirt. 

Felix sits back on his heels, drinking in every inch of pale skin beneath him. 

Benedict's entire body is quivering and his hands are fisted in the sheets. 

"God, you're so fucking gorgeous," Felix murmurs, trailing his hands over Benedict's legs upwards.

His skin is warm, sparse hair tickling Felix' oversensitive fingertips, toned muscles flexing under his palms. 

"Bloody gorgeous," he repeats, leaning down and plastering open mouthed kisses over Benedict's knees and his thighs, gently nudging them apart so he can settle between them. 

A thought occurs to him and he looks up, finding Benedict's wide eyed gaze on him.

"Uhm, I know you said, you want me to but for your first time...perhaps its better when you..." 

"Whatever you think is best," Benedict huffs, biting his lip as Felix caressing hand on his thigh tightens. 

Felix' heart stutters as he sees the utter trust in Benedict's face; it's almost too much to endure. Pressing a kiss in his stomach, Felix blinks rapidly and reaches for the lube and the condoms from the bedside table. 

He rips one open and carefully rolls it onto Benedict who moans long and loudly at the touch. Felix' own cock is throbbing and he gives it a firm squeeze, breathing through his nose to calm himself. 

When he thinks he has control over his unsteady hands again, he pops the bottle open and squeezes some lube on his fingers.  

He scrambles onto his knees and reaches behind himself, hissing at the cold of the lube on his heated skin. 

It's been a while since he's done this so he takes his time, rubbing slowly over the tight muscle before he carefully pushes past it. 

Benedict is watching him wordlessly, his attentive eyes dancing over Felix' face before they're drawn back to his hand. He is breathing harshly and he's biting his lower lip, the muscles in his neck standing out like cords. 

Felix teases himself, slowly getting used to that delicate burn again before adding a second finger. 

God, he's forgotten how good this feels. He moans lowly, gently working himself open, deliberately avoiding his prostate. It'll be over in a flash if he's touches it. 

Benedict's gaze is burning his skin, he can almost feel how it roams over his body, drinking everything in, every little shiver that wrecks through Felix with every motion. 

He's shaking rather heavily, his cock is aching for a touch and yet all Benedict does is watch and it's the hottest thing Felix has every experienced. 

"Touch me," Felix pleas, working his fingers inside himself harder now; soon, very soon. 

Benedict's throat clicks as he swallows dryly and carefully lays his hands on Felix' knees, hesitantly moving over his skin. 

Felix moans, encouraging him, and quickly Benedict gets bolder, sliding his fingers over Felix thighs, scratching his nails over the inside. 

"Fuck, I could come like this," Felix grumbles, his lids fluttering closed at the overwhelming feeling of Benedict's large hands on him. 

"No," he hears and blinks his eyes open. 

"Not like this," Benedict mumbles, narrowing his eyes, canting his hips. 

Felix huffs a laugh and leans down, brushing a kiss against Benedict's neck. 

"Not like this," he agrees gruffly, slipping his fingers out of himself. 

He shuffles back and pushes Benedict's legs together, settling over them, their cocks brushing against each other. 

Their groans are loud and ring in Felix ears. 

Benedict curses wildly, his grip around Felix' thighs is hard and his head falls back. 

Felix reaches between them, gently closing his hand around the other man's erection. He grabs the lube and squirts a good amount over it, spreading it with a few quick strokes. 

There are more profanities falling from Benedict's reddened lips and Felix can already tell it won't take long. Not when they're both this riled up. But it's fine, there'll be more times, many many more. 

For now, Felix just needs him inside. 

He angles his hips and then Benedict's cock is pressing against his entrance. 

Felix takes a deep breath and relaxes; he sinks down in one quick practised move. 

Benedict cries out as he settles on him, Felix' hands on his chest instinctively keeping his full weight off of him. 

"Fuck fuck fuck," he whimpers, "so fucking tight." 

Felix breathes loudly, the feeling of Benedict inside him almost too much. 

"Stay still for a moment," he begs, needing a moment to adjust to the fullness. 

Benedict is panting, his chest glistening with sweat but he nods. 

Felix can feel his hammering heart beneath his palms and when he closes his eyes he can also feel it inside him, strong and wild. 

Lust suddenly rushes through his veins, feral and all consuming. 

He moves his hips in tiny circles, eliciting the most erotic sounds from Benedict's lips, fuelling the fire burning in his body. 

Leaning down he captures Benedict's mouth in a fierce kiss, tilting his hips again, changing the angle and Benedict's cock brushes over the bundle of nerves inside him. 

Felix cries out, his hands slipping from Benedict's chest and under his shoulders, holding onto him as he starts moving. 

Slowly at first but quickly his tempo increases. His blood seems to boil, races like liquid fire through him and makes every single nerve ending fire uncontrollably. 

Benedict's squirming beneath him, his fingers digging deep into Felix skin; probably leaving bruises but Felix doesn't care. 

All that counts are the noises Benedict makes, growly little moans, throaty curses, husky and dark that shoot even more desire through Felix, wanting to take the man apart bit by bit and put him back together again. 

"Ben," Felix whispers, shifting so he can look at him, "Benedict, look at me, Love. Please." 

He needs to see his eyes, needs to see when he's losing it, losing himself inside him. 

Benedict blinks heavy lidded eyes open and when their gaze meets, a jolt of raw passion shoots through Felix. 

Benedict tightens his grip around Felix' moving hips and then they're moving together, wavelike, coming and going like the tide in perfect sync. 

Felix loses himself in Benedict's eyes which have gone black, only a tiny ring of colour is visible. 

"You feel incredible," Benedict murmurs, thrusting harder and Felix feels his orgasm building. 

"God, keep talking," he moans, clenching around Benedict's hardness inside him, making the man grunt and press deeper inside him. 

"So fucking incredible," Benedict babbles, his voice barely audible through the loud rush of blood in Felix' ears. He feels it though, through his palms on the man's skin, with every inch of touching skin, the vibrations of Benedict's deep baritone resonating through every cell of his body. 

"Make me come, Felix, just like this..." he pants, "God yes, take me apart..." 

Feral, animalistic instincts take over and Felix slams himself down, clenching hard around Benedict's cock inside him and comes, spilling his release over Benedict's chest. 

Benedict screams out, pushing impossibly deeper inside him and then stiffens before he starts shaking heavily. He's still trusting weakly but quickly stops, collapsing into the pillows, gasping for air. 

Felix leans down, kisses him and then slips off of him, whining at the loss. 

Before he can make a move to deposit the condom, Benedict pulls him into his arms, his lips hard and demanding as he kisses him with a fierce passion that leaves Felix breathless as he pulls back. 

"Is it too early to say I love you?", he asks, his voice breaking at the words. 

Suddenly tears well up in Felix' eyes and he shakes his head, not able to say anything. 

"I love you," Benedict whispers against his mouth, kissing him again, tenderly this time.  

Felix wraps his arms around him, pressing himself as close as possible against him, wishing he could melt into him. 

Eventually Benedict lets go, falling onto his back, his limps pliant and a serene smile on his bruised lips. 

Felix feels utterly boneless and it takes all his strength to get rid of the condom before he rolls back into bed. 

Benedict instantly pulls him into his arms, nuzzling his neck, licking sleepily over his neck, making him shiver. 

"That was utterly fantastic," he murmurs against Felix' skin, mouthing kisses wherever he can. 

Felix hums in agreement, words completely failing him. 

"I meant what I said, you know," Benedict whispers, the urgency in his tone has Felix lift his head. 

"It's not just the post coital bliss talking. Just wanted you to know that," he adds, his eyes flickering nervously over Felix face. 

Felix' heart clenches at the open vulnerability he finds there. 

"I know," he murmurs back, curling himself around the other man. 

"Good," he hears. 

Silence envelops them, darkness slowly fills the room as the daylight slowly faints. 

Felix slides one hand over Benedict's chest, settling just over his heart, feeling its beat strong and steady. 

"Benedict?" Felix asks after a while but only gets his deep breaths as answer. 

He's asleep and Felix smiles softly, brushing an errant curl out of his angelic face. 

"I love you," he whispers, fully knowing the other one can't hear him. 

It must be a play of the low lighting in the room: the soft stretch of Benedict's lips into a gentle smile. 

And yet it follows Felix into his dreams as sleep takes over and pulls him into warm darkness. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, I know, not what you expected, right?!  
> I had that idea in my head for a while now but I didn't want to use the usual suspects so I invented someone.  
> And in my head it totally works.  
> Yes, that is completely fictional - totally made up, never happened, at least not to my knowing - but IF it happened that way, I'd be the first to throw confetti and send a 'Best Wishes' card.  
> As long as HE is happy, I don't care about who he falls in love with.


End file.
